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Chapter 2: Wilbur
F
ern loved Wilbur more than
anything. She loved to stroke him, to
feed him, to put him to bed. Every
morning, as soon as she got up, she
warmed his milk, tied his bib on, and
held the bottle for him. Every afternoon,
when the school bus stopped in front of
her house, she jumped out and ran to the
kitchen to fix another bottle for him. She
fed him again at suppertime, and again
just before going to bed. Mrs.Arable
gave him a feeding around noontime
each day, when Fern was away in
school. Wilbur loved his milk, and he
was never happier than when Fern was
warming up a bottle for him. He would
stand and gaze up at her with adoring
eyes.
For the first few days of his life,
Wilbur was allowed to live in a box
near the stove in the kitchen. Then, when
Mrs. Arable complained, he was moved
to a bigger box in the woodshed. At two
weeks of age, he was moved outdoors. It
was apple-blossom time, and the days
were getting warmer. Mr.Arable fixed a
small yard specially for Wilbur under an
apple tree, and gave him a large wooden
box full of straw, with a doorway cut in
it so he could walk in and out as he
pleased.
"Won't he be cold at night?" asked
Fern.
"No," said her father. "You watch
and see what he does."
Carrying a bottle of milk, Fern sat
down under the apple tree inside the
yard. Wilbur ran to her and she held the
bottle for him while he sucked. When he
had finished the last drop, he grunted and
walked sleepily into the box. Fern
peered through the door. Wilbur was
poking the straw with his snout. In a
short time he had dug a tunnel in the
straw. He crawled into the tunnel and
disappeared from sight, completely
covered with straw.
Fern was enchanted. It relieved her
mind to know that her baby would sleep
covered up, and would stay warm.
Every morning after breakfast,
Wilbur walked out to the road with Fern
and waited with her till the bus came.
She would wave good-bye to him, and
he would stand and watch the bus until it
vanished around a turn. While Fern was
in school, Wilbur was shut up inside his
yard. But as soon as she got home in the
afternoon, she would take him out and he
would follow her around the place. If
she went into the house, Wilbur went,
too. If she went upstairs, Wilbur would
wait at the bottom step until she came
down again. If she took her doll for a
walk in the doll carriage, Wilbur
followed along. Sometimes, on these
journeys, Wilbur would get tired, and
Fern would pick him up and put him in
the carriage alongside the doll. He liked
this. And if he was very tired, he would
close his eyes and go to sleep under the
doll's blanket. He looked cute when his
eyes were closed, because his lashes
were so long. The doll would close her
eyes, too, and Fern would wheel the
carriage very slowly and smoothly so as
not to wake her infants.
One warm afternoon, Fern and
Avery put on bathing suits and went
down to the brook for a swim. Wilbur
tagged along at Fern's heels. When she
waded into the brook, Wilbur waded in
with her. He found the water quite cold -
too cold for his liking. So while the
children swam and played and splashed
water at each other, Wilbur amused
himself in the mud along the edge of the
brook, where it was warm and moist and
delightfully sticky and oozy.
Every day was a happy day, and
every night was peaceful.
Wilbur was what farmers call a
spring pig, which simply means that he
was born in springtime. When he was
five weeks old, Mr.Arable said he was
now big enough to sell, and would have
to be sold. Fern broke down and wept.
But her father was firm about it. Wilbur's
appetite had increased; he was beginning
to eat scraps of food in addition to milk.
Mr. Arable was not willing to provide
for him any longer. He had already sold
Wilbur's ten brothers and sisters.
"He's got to go, Fern," he said.
"You have had your fun raising a baby
pig, but Wilbur is not a baby any longer
and he has got to be sold."
"Call up the Zuckermans,"
suggested Mrs.Arable to Fern. "Your
Uncle Homer sometimes raises a pig.
And if Wilbur goes there to live, you can
walk down the road and visit him as
often as you like."
"How much money should I ask for
him?" Fern wanted to know.
"Well," said her father, "he's a runt.
Tell your Uncle Homer you've got a pig
you'll sell for six dollars, and see what
he says."
It was soon arranged. Fern phoned
and got her Aunt Edith, and her Aunt
Edith hollered for Uncle Homer, and
Uncle Homer came in from the barn and
talked to Fern. When he heard that the
price was only six dollars, he said he
would buy the pig. Next day Wilbur was
taken from his home under the apple tree
and went to live in a manure pile in the
cellar of Zuckerman's barn.